Canvas
by Xyrule
Summary: Spirited Away leaves many questions, but none so confusing as the story of No Face. Why is it attracted to Chihiro? Why did it find itself at that bridge? Where did it get its mask? Just a short fic I wrote for my 2017 mass update, chronicling the beginnings of everyone's favorite masked spirit!
1. Lonely

Lonely.

That was the only word it knew that could so completely encompass its entire existence.

What was it? It didn't know. What was anything? Was anything really able to be defined? It didn't know. All it knew was that it could do nothing but wander.

This world was strange in more ways than one. Rock shaped by wind and rain dominated the landscape, while the few rivers it came across on its journey were surrounded in long-bladed grasses and rattails jutting from the soil.

This world was not empty, but it certainly felt as though there was nothing here. The grass could not provide an interesting conversation, the reeds were quiet, the little furred creatures scurried when it came close.

It, too, could not speak. It had no mouth, nor any opening with which to make sound. The best that it could do was to allow the wind to blow through its body and produce a single simple sound.

"Ah."

That was it. It was disappointed in itself. What a useless creature, unable to do anything. It didn't even leave prints behind where it walked, so it was also unable to navigate. Everywhere looked the same, and it must have gone the same path hundreds of times, though it only ever walked forward.

Being unable to speak didn't mean that it was silent, however. Its mind was filled with words, confusion and questions that only growed with every passing hour as it met new things it didn't understand. What were the little creatures buzzing around it when it walked through a swamp? How could running water cut through rock to form a canyon?

It had seen the world changing around it as it wandered. Rock turned to grass turned to trees. How did it know the names of these things? Just another question it never would know the answer to.

It was formless, an amorphous collection of semi-transparent organs wrapped in a shroud that faded in and out of existence. It had no arms, no legs, no definable features at all. If it ever did find someone able to communicate, they would no doubt ignore it completely, or try to squash it out of existence.

Why did it exist? Why did it bother to wander? Why not root itself in place and wait for the earth to grow over it, never to be seen again? It was lonely, and it knew that there was little chance of finding someone to fill its time with.

It gave up. No more wandering, no more wishing for an answer to its wordless pleas. It simply sat itself down at the bank of a river and went silent. It had no purpose in its existence, and it saw no end to the life it lead. It knew its wish for a friend would go unanswered, so now, it would simply listen to the world around it.

It never understood how it could see and hear without any eyes or ears, but it felt no desire any longer to answer those questions. Perhaps it simply was not given the ability to learn the truth of this world. It was simply there to exist.

Now, it no longer cared about its own existence. It listened intently, carefully observing the world around this river's bank. It would never move from this spot again.

The river was slow-moving, creating small currents as it broke over rocks and flowed over soil. It could see small fish flittering about in the water, but when it reached to them, they swam away.

It was sad. Even the fish didn't want to be around it. At least the grass didn't run away from it. The grass simply whistled as the breeze passed through the blades, creating a symphony of sound that helped to calm it.

It heard a scratching sound from behind it too, a sound that made it curious. This was not a sound of nature. It was a sound that it did not recognize, and so it turned, though it had no true direction to face in anyway. It had no form after all, simply a dark stain on the earth.

A new creature, one that it didn't recognize. The creature sat on a rock, holding a board made of stretched animal skin attached to a wood frame and running a small stick whose end was covered in animal fur across the skin. Her curly brown hair framed her angled face as she worked intently on her painting, ignoring its presence in front of her.

The creature lowered the board in order to turn to her side, dipping the tip of the brush onto a flat board covered in many colored paints, and it saw that this creature, unlike all others it had met, was not naked.

The skins that she wore were clearly not of her own body, wrapped around her and tied with straps made of some kind of fiber. The section around her waist was loose, but as it looked up her body, it grew tighter, stretching at the curve of her chest. Was she not uncomfortable like that? Why did she wear clothing?

Perhaps the clothing was like its shroud, protecting the creature's body from the environment. She appeared happy, at least. Her mouth was curved upward as she returned to her work.

It watched in silence for several hours, sitting still as the creature continued to paint, before she suddenly stood, sighing in relief as she help up the board, smiling in satisfaction.

"Finished." it said, in a high-pitched voice, and it flinched at the sound of the word. This was the first time it had ever heard someone speak, and so its hearing was not used to the odd sound.

It stayed still. Its hopes of communication had been crushed long ago, it had no reason to believe that it may be able to befriend this girl.

Its body shifted as she walked towards it, much to its surprise. Had she noticed it? Why was she-

Oh. She passed it. She was simply going to stand on the riverbank, her bare feet sinking into the mud as she held the painting up.

It was a beautiful painting, perfectly capturing the detail of the river, and it shifted again in surprise as it realized that, there, in the bottom center, laid a purple and black representation of its formless body...Why had she bothered to include it? It was an ugly shape on an otherwise pretty scene.

"Hmm...It needs a name." she said, grinning as she turned to it. "What do you think I should call it? Something ridiculously complicated!"

It was surprised. She was no doubt looking at it now. Was she asking its opinion of the painting? It couldn't speak, it had no way to answer her.

But it decided to try. She was the first to acknowledge it. Maybe she could be its friend, though it was terrified that its hope would be dashed again. Nevertheless, it shook its body in an attempt to speak. It had no mouth, but it would try anyway.

It felt the breeze flow through its body, and attempted to direct it in an approximation of voice. It spent several seconds manipulating it inside its body, before exuding it in its attempt at its first word…

"Ah."

That was it. It was the same as always. It sunk back to the ground, ashamed at failing once again to speak. Now the girl would ignore it, and it would have lost its chance.

To its surprise, she didn't turn away. She simply smiled and sat down, crossing her legs to sit on the mud, grinning at it. "You don't talk much, do you?" she asked, cradling the painting in her lap, and she looked down at it. "Nigihayami Kohaku Nushi." she said. "That'll be its name."

A long name. Did it mean something? It wished to ask, but once again, all it could say was "Ah?".

She looked at it and smiled again. "An unnecessarily long name for a simple thing...I'll call it Kohaku for short." she said. "Do you have a name? Mine's Megami."

Megami. It now had a name for her face...but it had no name, and no face. It had nothing to give her as a reply.

She sat still for over a minute as she waited patiently for it to reply, but as she realized it wasn't going to answer, she laughed. "No name, huh?" she asked. "Of course, maybe you just can't talk. You don't have a face either…" She laughed again. "I'll call you Kaonashi. 'No Face' in my language." She frowned. "Is that insensitive?" she asked. "Sorry if that made you sad…"

No! It was not sad! It loved this gift that she'd given it. A name of its own. It never knew it was deserving of a name...It couldn't just ignore her like this, it had to find a way to show its gratitude…

Its body shifted as it forced itself to move, lifting off the ground, and after adjusting, it found itself able to stand upright, though looking down at itself, its body faded and disappeared toward the ground.

It was nothing but a shroud. It had no features for her to see, but now, it could at least be as tall as she was. It hoped she understood its efforts, and as she smiled, it was happy as well.

She pressed her hand into her knee as she stood up, holding the painting in her other hand, and as she stood, she laughed, holding her free hand up to its head level as she compared their heights.

"So you can stand." she said, staring at it. Her eyes felt like they were boring into its body, but perhaps that was true. It had no form even now, and its body was all but faded away. It felt that it was simply this girl's shadow, and the look she gave it made that assumption feel all the more true.

Her laugh cut away the thoughts as it watched her. "You're just as tall as me!" she said, jumping back a few steps and grinning, crossing her arms behind her, the painting facing away from her body as she bent over to study its body, her face twisting to a frown. "That has to be taking a lot of effort, are you okay? You're so thin, I can see right through you…"

No, it was fine! This took little energy, and it felt more comfortable now than it ever did before! She had no reason to worry!

"Ah!"

She blinked, before laughing. "I'll take that as you saying you're fine." she said, standing straight again and looking at the river. "Well, I'd better head home. Sayonara, Kohaku!" she said, waving to the river, which naturally did not respond.

She was several meters away when she turned around again. "Aren't you coming, Kaonashi?" she asked, and it stared.

Was she inviting it to go with her? Was she really willing to be around a meaningless spirit like it? It had no body, and it could not paint as beautifully as she could. It had no body to imprint the ground with its weight, and it had no hands to wave as she did. She had a purpose, it did not.

But she still stood there, as if waiting for it. Was she serious about letting such a useless thing follow her?

It decided to accept the offer. She was its friend, even if it was not hers. She was Megumi, the first thing that had ever spoken to it. It was Kaonashi, the first thing she had named.

Well, she'd named the river first, but it liked to believe that she felt it more important than a mindless body of water.

It followed behind her, leaving no trail as it passed over her footprints, and she looked back at it, smiling.

"It's nice to have a friend here." she said. "I haven't met anyone in so long since I got taken to this world...It's quite boring here, isn't it? There isn't even a good place to take a bath except the river!"


	2. Mask

Megami grinned as she stepped back, wiping the sweat from her forehead as she looked over her creation with pride.

A small wood house overlooking the Kohaku River, hardly anything special, but it was enough for her. If it had a face, Kaonashi would smile as it witnessed the pride swelling in the girl's chest.

It was the same pride that she had shown when it first learned to produce a footprint. After drinking in her kindness for so long, it now had a solid mass, and now, every step it took was purposeful, watching closely in wonder as its feet sank into the ground and left trails wherever it went.

As always, every positive thing she gave it carried a bit of sadness as well. She was helping it to become real, giving it life where it had none, and yet it still could not help her in any way. It knew the limits of its body, and it had known that it could have built a much better house for her. It had the strength to lift whole trees if it needed to, this small shack would have been simple for it.

But she had rejected its attempts to help. Whenever it tried to cut wood or carry a plank, she had told it to leave. She didn't want to depend on anyone, even Kaonashi.

And it was not willing to reject her wishes. If she asked something of it, then it would obey, and so it had held back while she constructed the structure of her own accord. She had allowed it to hunt in order to feed them both, but that was a small return for all she had already given it.

She had given it a name and a form. Before, it was a nameless wanderer, and now, it was Kaonashi, her guardian spirit...A term she had coined before, and though it did not understand the significance, being given a title made it as happy as when she'd named it.

She had named many things now. Frog. Cloud. Wolf. Sun. It had learned the meaning of her name, and it truly believed her deserving of the title. Megami, "Goddess". To it, that was exactly what she was, the goddess of its world.

Now, she sat on the rock she had used to paint back when they'd first met, raising a knife made of sharpened stone and tied to a stick, holding a clump of her hair out to slice it with the blade as Kaonashi watched from her side.

It never understood when she did this. Why would she wish to get rid of her hair? It would love to have hair, and seeing her so easily remove a part of her body, even simple dead strands, like this felt wrong.

It held a hand out to her, the thin tendril pathetically small and disproportionate compared to her long arms. Her hands were large enough to carry wood and delicate enough to wield a paintbrush, and its own were too small and thin to hold the tools she carried.

It didn't understand why it could lift trees and yet couldn't hold the spoon and fork she gave it for eating. When she'd realized it could not hold the small utensils, she'd allowed it to simply swallow all the food she prepared for it whole. She never complained or even flinched when it revealed the mouth that it had learned it possessed, but it knew she feared it. Large and with giant, flat teeth spaced far apart, it could consume anything of any size. It could eat her if it became too hungry, and yet she never feared it. She should, and it knew that she should. It was a hideous creature, its mouth was disgusting compared to hers. Small, dainty, with short teeth situated close together, she could eat without making a mess. Where it always ate outside for fear of damaging the wood in her home, she could even eat in her bed despite the difficulty of washing fabric in the murky water of the Kohaku.

Now, she smiled, stopping as the knife went halfway through the clump she was cutting as she saw iits motion. "Do you like my hair?" she asked, her smile broadening as it shifted uncomfortably at the question.

"...Ah." It still could not speak, but she was never bothered by its silence.

She hummed to herself, looking up at the sky as she thought, before laughing, completing the cut and holding the locks out to her companion. "Here, you can have it." she said, her smile never fading as it accepted the gift…

The hair dropped to the ground as it touched Kaonashi's hand, as if the strands burned its shroud, and she frowned worriedly at the motion.

"Ah." it said. It couldn't accept her gifts, not until it had given her something in return. "Ah."

She blinked, before grinning. "Oh, finally growing up?" she asked. "Finally starting to come out from under Mamma Megami's wing?"

Wing? She possessed no wings. Another curious expression.

When it didn't answer, she sighed, looking out at the river. "Kaonashi, can you go get me my painting supplies?" she asked. "I want to paint the house now that it's finished."

It shifted. That was something it could do! It moved to the door, entering the tiny house to collect the supplies, left on a desk in the corner of the room, and after awkwardly stringing them over its spindly arms, moved as quickly as it could without dropping them outside.

"Ah!" it said, and she smiled as she turned, holding her hand out to accept the tools.

It reached to give her the canvas, but as she took it, it found itself off-balanced, the heavy bucket full of paint canisters swinging on irs elbow, and it accidentally dropped the brush it held in the same hand.

As it reached down to retrieve the instrument, it suddenly felt the bucket shift, and though it tried to catch it, the heavy metal container slipped from its arm, landing firmly on the brush.

The air was silent as a loud crack resounded, the bucket settling on the ground.

It stared in worry as Megami silently lifted the bucket, an unreadable expression on her face. It backed up a few paces, terrified that it had angered her...It didn't want its friend to be angry!

The air was tense as she picked up the brush, which at first appeared fine, but a little dirty...and then she held it with either end held by a hand, bending it slowly.

The wood splintered as it bent, and Kaonashi didn't need to be very observant to know that it wouldn't be reparable...It had broken the most necessary part of her hobby.

"Ah-" It cut itself off, turning away in shame. All the gifts she'd given it, and it had repaid her by breaking her brush...What a useless creature it was.

It jolted as it felt a hand on its shroud, approximately where its shoulder would be had it had a more complete form. It didn't want to turn. It didn't want to see the rage in her eyes. It didn't want to be rejected. It didn't want to be lonely-

"Kaonashi." Her voice lacked any of the anger it had expected, and it slowly obeyed, turning to face her.

She was smiling, but it could see it wasn't genuine. She was sad that she had lost her tool, it knew that even without being able to read her body movement. So why was she smiling? She should be shouting at it, pushing it away for its crime against her livelihood…

It didn't want to be alone, but the fact that she wasn't punishing it for its transgression felt even worse. Why wouldn't she raise her voice?

"It's okay." she said, her voice low, and her tone was calming...Why was she trying to calm it? She was the one who should be worked up, not Kaonashi!

"Ah?" it questioned, and she chuckled, patting its body a few times before standing straight, looking at the broken brush and sighing, before tossing it into the river.

"It's useless now." she said, shrugging and sitting on the rock, holding her chin up with her fists as she hummed in thought. "I brought that with me from my homeworld when I came here, I have no clue how to make a brush. Surprised it lasted this long though, it's been, what, 20 years since I first came here?"

Years. The word meant nothing to Kaonashi, but according to her, they were a unit of time, something that it had no concern over. Time meant little to a being not built to die, after all.

She laughed. "That reminds me, you've been with me for almost a decade now." she said. "So...thanks for being with me for so long, it was pretty lonely before you showed up." She smiled, and it backed up in surprise.

This was a genuine smile. Why was she suddenly praising it, after it had broken her brush? If she could not replace it, then why was she so unconcerned?

The brush made her happy. Kaonashi had gotten in the way of that happiness...It hated the thought that it brought its friend misfortune.

Its hands came together as it concentrated, and she tilted her head in interest as it concentrated its energy.

The wood was thin but strong, and the fur at the tip was densely packed but softer than the skins that she wore. It knew every detail of her brush, it had had ten years to study it and now it knew everything inside and out about the tool.

In its hands, it now held a perfect replica, and from her eyes widening, it knew Megami was as surprised as it was.

"You…" she said, her voice breathless. "You remade it…"

"Ah." it said, holding its hands out, presenting the brush like it was giving a sword to a soldier. It was such a small gift compared to everything she had given it, but it hoped that this at least could offset its breaking the previous one.

She smiled, accepting it, rolling it in her fingers as she studied it. "It's perfect…" she said, laughing and jumping up from the rock, gripping the brush tightly in her hand as she ran toward the house. "Come here, Kaonashi! I have something for you too!"

It was happy as it followed her. Here was the excitement it enjoyed seeing in her, the boundless energy that so perfectly countered its own lethargy.

It stood in the entrance to the shack as she rummaged through a wood crate underneath the bed, staring uncertainly as she pulled out an oddly shaped object.

A white ceramic mask, the flat surface broken by two oval-shaped eyeholes and a small mouth. It watched her as she ran past it again, digging through her paint bucket and dipping the brush it gave her into a canister.

It watched curiously from the door as she painted a quick design onto the mask. Stripes going across the eyes and a spot below the mouth. A design she'd used before, when she once experimented with drawing faces, something she couldn't use a reference for here, with no one around that looked like her.

She grinned, holding up the mask, and stood up again, setting her brush on the rock and walking to the being at her door, her face split by her smile.

"Here." she said. "Bend over a little."

It didn't know what she was planning, but it obeyed, shifting to bend the top of its body so she could hold the mask up, fixing it to its body.

Assuming anything was always dangerous, for fear that it would make her angry, but now, it accepted what it believed to be her intentions, and the mask became stuck to its body, glued to the shroud.

She smiled, stepping back. "There we go. Stand up now!" she said, and as it obeyed, she giggled, holding her hands to her hips. "Perfect, now I know what to look at when I'm talking to you!" she said excitedly. "Well, how does it feel, Kaonashi? Now you have a face!"

It stared in surprise. Oh, how it wished it could thank her! "Ah!" it said, hoping that it could get its point across, and she laughed.

"Hey, Kaonashi." she said, her voice lowering, and it tilted the top of its body, using its new "face" to express its curiosity. This gift was so useful! Now, it, like her, had both a name and a face!

She giggled again at the expression, poking where its chest would be with a finger, the digit sinking slightly into the gelatinous body. "Don't ever feel ashamed for making a mistake again. Got it?"

"Ah?" it asked, surprised, and she frowned.

"I mean it. It isn't your fault, so don't blame yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, even freaky shadow creatures who can manipulate matter."


	3. Lost

Kaonashi watched as Megami worked on yet another painting, this time of the bridge crossing the Kohaku towards a large field she'd cleared out in the forest on the other side.

There would be a city there, someday, she told it. She often spoke of cities, often wondered aloud how long it would take for others like her to come along. She doubted she was the only one.

Kaonashi doubted it too. She was too kind to be lonely, she deserved another human. It didn't know the word she'd used to describe herself, but it did understand the urges she was forced to suppress for so many years. It was not human, and so she could not properly enjoy its presence, no matter how hard it tried to provide for her.

She was shorter than it now. It didn't know why, but she had shrunk, and no longer did she bother cutting her whitening hair. She walked with a hunch now, carrying a stick to keep her standing, but she never went far anyway, so the cane often remained untouched at the side of her bed.

The wood house was old and showed its age in the creaks and groans that constantly came from it, and it knew that the bridge was unstable. It had been so long since she'd built anything, most of the newer additions were constructed by her companion now.

And yet, her skill with the brush had not diminished. Every stroke was purposeful, every color chosen was exactly what was needed. It once wondered why she had started painting its mask into the bottom right corner of every painting even when it was not in the area, and she'd simply told it that it was a signature.

It didn't know what a signature was, but it liked the thought that she cared enough to put its face into each of her creations, which now lined the walls of the house and rested in piles in a room built entirely for the purpose of storing them.

She painted often, sometimes landscapes, sometimes Kaonashi, sometimes her own reflection in the water. The supply of paintings were filling up the space now.

"Ah." it said, concerned over the rapidly decreasing storage. It would need to build another room soon.

The woman looked at it, smiling, her face noticeably wrinkled now, the edges more defined as her mouth lifted. She was not as energetic as she was when she'd given it the mask. Now, she was slow in her movements, and often it needed to touch her for her to notice its presence.

"What's wrong, Kaonashi?" she asked, her voice hoarse and hacking as she laughed. "I know it's just a mask, but that blank face of yours always makes me smile. I wish I could hide my emotion as well as you."

It knew that her happiness over the years had diminished. It pained her to move now, and despite her efforts to hide it, Kaonashi could see the sadness in her eyes. Why was she like this now? Was she sick?

The unchanging spirit didn't understand. It was the same as it had always been. It was not hunched, it was not wrinkled. It was full and solid now, its spindly arms and legs holding up a thick, tube-like body, the mask resting at the top over the mouth it still saw as disgusting.

She still never complained about its ravenous appetite. It could eat ten times what she did and she'd do nothing but laugh at its hunger and give it another serving.

It watched her carefully, taking in any slight movement of her face as it listened to her speak of its mask.

She had given it other gifts, but its face was the one it held closest to it. She gave it a name and face and made it more than a wandering spirit...She'd given it an identity.

For so long it wished to give back to her equally what she'd given to it, but now, it had learned that she had no desire for possessions. Earthly things didn't matter to her, and so it had no reason to continually try to repay its debt.

She'd told it not to bother on multiple occasions. She didn't want its handouts, she got everything she needed from her own work. All she'd ever asked of it was that it not leave her alone.

Loneliness was something both a spirit and a human could understand, it seemed. However, despite that, it still held its hand out to her, conjuring a small pile of seeds in its hand.

She loved growing wheat, before she had stopped because lifting the reaping scythe hurt her back. Wheat was her favorite plant, she once enjoyed strolling through the fields. Surely she'd accept this?

The woman smiled, shaking her head slowly. "I don't need it." she said.

"Ah…" Kaonashi replied, dejectedly pulling its hand back to its body. It knew that would be her answer, but it still felt sad at the rejection. It wanted to help her! She was so slow now, as if its own lethargy had transferred to her.

Was this a product of it living near her? Was it causing her to wrinkle and shrink? It was immortal, it had no concept of time, and so it had never occurred to it that she was influenced by the years.

She smiled, registering its sadness, and stood up, groaning as her bones creaked from the movement, and she set down her painting supplies, making her way slowly to it, before wrapping her arms around its body, burying her face in its chest.

"I don't need anything." she said quietly, smiling as she always did. "Just stay with me, Kaonashi. None of your gifts matter, it's you I want to have."

This wasn't the first time she had said that. But why did she care more for it than she did for seeds? It was a useless spirit, only able to conjure things she didn't want. Why did she accept itself when she wouldn't take the seeds, or the knives, or the skins that it gave her? She needed those things, but she wouldn't take them. They had a purpose, yet she chose it over them. It didn't understand her.

Even after so long by her side, it realized that it still knew very little about who Megami was.

She could have left a long time ago, gone away from her home to wander as it had. She was an animal after all, and it could tell that she'd desired a mate many times, but she'd never acted on it.

Even when it expressed that it would follow her should she leave, she still stayed behind. Was there a reason for wanting to be near this house?

It was just wood and tools, and she didn't care for possessions. What possible sentimental value could there be in this place? It couldn't understand that, but it never questioned her.

She was its goddess, her word was law in its mind. If she wished to ignore her urges and live like this, then it had no right to correct her.

It knew. Even before it saw her unable to leave her bed, it knew that now, she was past her chance of finding a mate.

Now, she was bedridden, unable to do so much as move her hands. It knew that there would be no more paintings anymore. She had performed the last stroke of the brush.

It stood at her bedside, holding a spoon full of food taken from a bowl in its other hand, feeding her as she laid in her bed.

Her hair had started to fall out now, wiry strands that felt rough in its fingers when it cleaned them from her pillow. Her face was pulled back and pale now, almost as white as its mask. Even her hands were bony now, lacking the flesh that she'd once had. Even if she wished to, it didn't think she could actually lift a brush anymore. She was too weak now.

She smiled, her mouth almost void of teeth now, the gaps in her gums larger than those in Kaonashi's.

"It isn't your fault." she said, and it tilted the mask in questioning. She made the effort to shake her head and sighed, resting her head on her pillow and looking up at the slowly decaying ceiling of the house. It didn't know how to maintain wood, so for years the house had been falling apart, much like its friend.

"Ah?"

She tried to laugh, but the only sound that came out was a choked cough. "This is normal for us mortals." she said, smiling. "So don't blame yourself. It's just my time to go, I guess."

Go. Go where? She hadn't even been able to stand without its help for years, and if she tried to go anywhere now, she'd collapse before even getting out of the room. What did she mean by 'go'?

Her smile didn't fade. "You're fading again. It's been a long time since I saw that." she said, nodding slowly, and it turned to look at its own body.

...What had happened? Its body no longer was as solid as before, and it couldn't see its feet.

Its body was as it had once been, when it first gave itself a structured form. The shroud was dark as it went up, but it faded, and by the time it reached the ground, it was completely transparent.

Why had it changed back to this? Why had it lost its solidity?

Megami caught its attention with another hacking laugh. "Sorry to leave you like this." she said. "But I don't think I can stay any longer. I have to go back to my own world, I think."

Her world? Was she returning now? Was this why she was acting like this? Was her body growing weaker to prepare for that?

"Ah?" it asked, its mind whirling as it tried to process the information. Where was she going? What was her world like? Could it come too?

It tossed the spoon and bowl to the side and grabbed her hand with its own, staring at her with an intensity that it rarely showed.

"Ah." it said. It wanted to come too.

She smiled, shaking her head as her hand loosely gripped its own. "Sorry, this is a place only humans can go to." she said. "I'm afraid I'll have to entrust the house to you. Think you can handle it on your own?"

On its own? It didn't want to be alone again! It held her hand tighter as its mind went frantic. "Ah!" it said, pleading for her to stay. "Ah!"

She didn't respond this time, and as it calmed itself, it realized that her grip had loosened, so that her hand was held up only by its own.

It stepped back, letting her hand go and watching as it fell to the bed. So that's what she meant. It understood now.

Even in death, Megami was still smiling. If she could be so happy at the end, then it would be happy for her as well.

It didn't feel happy. She had left it. His friend was gone now, though it could still see her body. It knew that she wouldn't move again.

But it could. It could realize her dream of creating a city here. It recalled her once mentioning that there was no better place to take a bath than just the Kohaku. Maybe that would be its goal now.

It would give her a final gift, one great enough that she would always be with it, though now it knew it was alone once again.

It would build her a bath house.


End file.
